A Hogwarts Christmas Carol
by Merlyn
Summary: Based on 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens. Snape is visited by three spirits during Christmas, can they save his soul from eternal damnation? Set during 'Chamber of Secrets'. Featuring many guest appearances.
1. Regulus' Ghost

**Authors Note: **This is a little Christmas present for those out there who are reading. Merry Christmas!  
**Disclaimer: **The story belongs to Dickens, the characters to JK Rowling. I claim neither.

A Hogwarts Christmas Carol  
in Prose  
Being a Ghost Story of Christmas

Chapter One: Regulus' Ghost

There was no doubt to anyone that Regulus Black was dead. Dead and buried. Snape had placed the last nail into the lid of his coffin himself before standing solemnly at the grave-side, the only mourner.

There was no question as to whether Snape _knew _ he was dead, of course he did. They had been partners for many years before his untimely death. He was the sole friend, and sole mourner – Regulus having disgraced his family upon his death.

Despite his apparent love for his partner Snape showed little sorrow during the funeral, he was a man who believed public displays of emotion were beneath him. Even in his private affairs he remained as cold and calculating as ever.

There was no doubt that Regulus was dead. There must be no doubt in your minds, just as there was no doubt in Snape's, that Regulus was dead and had been for almost twelve years. If you understand one thing tonight, it is this; otherwise nothing wonderful can come from this tale.

Snape was a hard man with what could be said to be a cold heart. He had his secrets, his self-contained thoughts which you did not think to question him on for fear of his wrath. Pity the poor student who thought to intrude upon his solitude with a trivial question, everyone knew to leave Professor Snape well alone.

He was a cold harsh man, not even the beautiful twinkling of a log fire could warm his soul, the wintry weather had little effect on him for I doubt he could freeze any further.

No one dared, student or professor, to stop him in the corridor to wish him a hearty 'Good morning!' even the ghosts knew to leave this volcano of a man well alone. No one Professor asked him to join them in their study for a quick sniffer of brandy before the day began and in this matter he was quite content. He basked in his solitude and misery, there was little humanity had to offer him all he needed were his spell books and potions. What else could a man wish for?

Snape despised Christmas, he hated the coloured babbles, the trees, the food but most of all he hated the sickly smiles of those around him who dared to wish him a 'Merry Christmas'. Anyone who did dare was met with a harsh glare, in any other circumstance he would have said 'Bah, humbug.' but that was taken. There was something else that he despised more than Christmas, and that was Gilderoy Lockhart the insufferable busy body who could not stand to see anyone miserable at this great time of year.

This year the weather was particularly bleak and foggy, driving the students of Hogwarts back into the castle seeking warmth and company. The great clock chimed the hour, it had just gone three and yet the darkness outside had not lifted. Whilst the rest of the castle huddled around great blazing fires and lit hundreds upon hundred of candles in an attempt to drive away the shadows, Snape sat alone in his dark office. The fire was low, barely giving off enough heat to warm the spiders and it was from this light that Snape was working.

The door to his office was open, as if to admit more darkness and cold into the already terrifying room. The shadows from the various things in jars danced wildly around the walls as if part of some terrible dance.

"A Merry Christmas, Severus!" Came a cheery voice. It was the voice of Gilderoy Lockhart, who had entered the office uninvited and unwanted.

Snape stared at the somewhat flamboyant Professor who had bounced into his sanctuary. Lockhart was honouring the occasion of the Lord's birth by wearing robes of a brilliant scarlet, decorated with a green fur trim. Enough to make the hardiest man ill.

"Piss off." Snape spat.

Lockhart had recently been walking in the cold mists that currently surrounded the castle and so his bright handsome cheeks were ruddy, his forget-me-not blue eyes sparkled in the fire-light.

"Oh come on, you don't mean that!"

"I do."

"I could lend you a copy of my autobiography, 'Magical Me', it's been known to cheer many a person up."

"Piss. Off." Snape repeated slowly.

"Oh don't be such a misery guts." Lockhart retorted.

Snape snorted, "what else can I be, when insufferable fools barge into my office with things like 'Merry Christmas' upon their lips! This is a time like any other, we're a year older and a year poorer as the result. If I could enchant every idiot who goes about wishing people a 'Merry Christmas' so that they are instantly boiled down, cooked with their own pudding and buried with a stake of holly through their heart, then believe me, I would!"

Lockhart took a nervous step back. "Severus..."

"You keep Christmas how you like it, and I shall keep it how I like it."

"There's no need to be harsh, I only came to bring you a message. Minerva said you're invited to the staff Christmas party...as usual."

"I shall give you my usual answer, over my dead body. Now get out, I'm busy."

Outside the weather turned and grew darker, Hagrid's hut obscured by the thick winding fog was no longer visible from the small window in Snape's office. The cold intensified.

"God bless the merry Hippogriff!  
May nothing you dismay!"

Peeves sang loudly as he darted into the dark office, Snape snarled and pointed his wand at the offending poltergeist. Peeves gestured rudely before throwing himself up the chimney, still singing.

Soon the clock chimed the hour and he conceded that perhaps it was time for bed. Grumpily he raised himself from his chair and pulled on his dress coat, he could finish his work tonight but he had so much to accomplish; if he did not retire to bed he would be good for nothing in the morning and that would not do. He walked out of his office with a low growl, turning to charm the locks upon the door.

Before retiring to his bed chamber he made his way down to the kitchens. He had forgone joining the rest of the school with their feast but still felt the familiar pangs of hunger.

The kitchens were insufferably merry, the House Elves had clearly made a great effort to join in with the season. He ignored the painful sight of the overly garish Christmas decorations and beckoned to the nearest House Elf. The Elf immediately prepared him a cold supper with a little bit of cheese, and this is what he took back to his private rooms.

There was nothing particular about the door to his private rooms, it was your standard dark oak door, adored with a small brass plate which denoted the name of the current occupant. The only subtle difference was carved face which the previous occupier had carved; it had been so ill done and so long ago that no one knew what the carving feature. Snape had seen this every night for the past few years, but this night was different. Everyone knew him not to be a fanciful man, anyone in the castle could tell you so from the lowliest House Elf to the most regal spectre. Snape had not thought of Regulus since that ill fated day twelve years ago this night when he had breathed his last. And yet, as he moved to open the door saw the carving change in Regulus' face.

Regulus' face. It was not a shadow for it held a dismal light about it. Regulus' eyes were wide open almost emulating the moment his life had ended, the eyes themselves were perfectly still. The whole image was horrible, the face twisting in agony and a silent scream.

As Snape glared at the carving, the vision passed and Regulus' face was there no more. Very little unnerved him and yet as he reached for the door handle he found that his hand shook. He breathed deeply to steady the harsh pounding beneath his ribs and slammed the door behind him.

His chambers were dark, but Snape did not care he preferred the dark and took comfort from it's solitude. His incident with the carving made him cautious though, so lighting his wand he made his way though the rooms before retiring to his bed chamber.

After changing from his robes into his night-shirt and placing his old worn mouse-coloured dressing gown about his shoulders he settled down in front of a low fire to consume the meal the House Elves had prepared for him.

After consuming his light supper; and having read all the periodicals that interested him, and finished making notes in the latest edition of 'Advanced Potion Making' he climbed at last between the cold sheets of his bed.

He closed his eyes but found that the horrifying vision of Regulus' last moments on Earth assailed his senses and opening his eyes he glared up at the dark ceiling.

"Blast." He muttered, pulling himself out of bed. He stalked angrily around the chamber cursing the very memory of Regulus Black, in a fit of rage he threw himself into the old armchair that stood by the fire. His eyes momentarily caught the glint of an old bell that hung innocently by the fireplace. The bell had once communicated with the kitchens but had fallen into disuse and ill-repair. As he looked at the bell, he saw to his astonishment that it began to swing.

At first it swung gently as if afraid to emit a sound but soon it rang with more confidence and Snape's ears were assaulted with the sound of several hundred ringing bells. He cried out in alarm and thrust his hands to his ears, he swore he would find the culprits for this prank and make sure that they paid dearly for their crime.

He stumbled as he tried to reach for his wand, but the ringing stopped almost abruptly as it had started. A heavy atmosphere hung in the air and despite himself, Snape shivered. _Curse those Weasley twins_! He thought (for he had no doubt that they were behind this prank.) He tried to settle back into his armchair, but another sound interrupted his rest.

This sound was heavier than the bells, a clanking sound as if someone were dragging heavy chains behind them. The noise appeared to be coming from outside the corridor and Snape's mind was instantly thrown to the earlier events of the year, to the so-called 'Chamber of Secrets'. He pulled his dressing gown closer to his body and gripped his wand tightly.

The door flew open with a bang crashing onto the wall behind it. In an instant he was on his feet, advancing towards the door his wand out. He gave a cry as a hot searing pain shot through his arm, he watched horrified as his wand flew up into the air.

There, standing before him in his tattered old clothes was Regulus Black. His dark hair tied behind his head in a tight pony-tail. There was no doubting that face. Hung about his body were a many great chains, the chain was clasped at the middle of his chest and round down about his body like a great tail. It was transparent, Snape could see into the dark corridor behind the horrific sight that lay before him.

He did not believe what he was seeing blaming the vision upon his supper. He could not doubt that something stood before him as he felt the searing heat of Regulus' eyes reaching into him. A tight handkerchief clung to his head hiding the large gash that had final taken his life. Regulus' groaned and heaved his chains towards Snape, the door snapped shut behind him.

Despite not believing his eyes, Snape took a step back away from the vision.

"What do you want with me?" He asked without a tremor in his voice.

"Much." Regulus replied. There was no hiding from the fact that, that was indeed his voice.

"Who are you?" Snape demanded.

"You mean who _was _I?"

"Who _were _you?" He raised his voice determined to show whoever was pulling his prank that he was not affected.

"In life I was the man you tortured to death to avoid another's wrath, Regulus Black. The man you apparently cared for."

"This is a cruel trick." Snape said to no one in particular.

"You don't believe me?"

"I don't."

"Why do you doubt your eyes?"

"Because the slightest thing can affect them. You are no doubt a terrible prank, or perhaps the light meal the House Elves prepared me has affected me. You could be a piece of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato." He glared closely at the image, "I would say there is more of gravy than grave about you."

Regulus returned Snape's glare with equal force. Snape felt the air about him tighten and constrict, he struggled to control his breathing and wished he could subdue the thud of his heart against his ribs.

Regulus gave a terrifying roar and shook his chain causing an appalling noise to echo around the room; Snape seized his chair shaking. Regulus advanced forward, slowly removing the ghostly bandage from around his head Snape tried to avoid staring the ghastly wound that was slowly coming into view, his stomach tightened as he remembered Regulus' final moment.

"No...please." He gasped, his hands forward pleading with the spirit.

"Look at me." Regulus hissed, "do you believe in me or not?"

"I do." Snape sobbed, "but why do you stalk me? Why are you here? Why must you torment me so!"

In reply he lifted his chain, "I'm bound, Severus. I'm bound to this infernal life, I can't escape from my sins, this fate that binds me, binds you also."

Ghostly chains began to wind themselves around Snape's thin body, he gave a cry and tried to brush away the apparitions but his hand touched only air.

"Regulus," he cried imploringly, "my dear companion, _why_? Over me comfort as I did to you in life, not this."

"Comfort?!" Regulus laughed, "I have none to give. Because of you, because of what you did to me and because of my own sins I can't rest. I can't leave this retched life. For twelve years I have wandered, despite what you did I know how your feelings lie and upon by word, Severus, I don't want you to share the same fate."

"Well, twelve years I suppose you saw much of the world." Snape mused.

Regulus roared again, rattling his chains. "Doubled ironed, bound. Trapped by constant labour, not able to make amends for my misdeeds. My redemption came too late for me to be saved, but it is not too late for you." He loomed over Snape, "you a have a chance to escape my fate."

"You offer your murderer a chance for redemption...why?"

"We shared many things in life, this is my gift to you."

Snape was deeply touched by this gesture. "You are a good friend, Regulus."

"You will be visited, by three spirits."

Snape groaned, "please no, I'm haunted enough as it is!"

"Without them you won't be able to save yourself from the path I walk."

"Can't they come all at once and get it over with?" He asked hopefully.

"Expect the second tomorrow night at this hour, the third the next upon the last stroke of midnight. You'll see me more Severus, remember what has taken place." As he spoke, he carefully wrapped the handkerchief around his head once more to hide the hideous gash. He began to walk backwards towards the window and Snape found himself following him, as he neared Regulus held up a hand warning him to come no closer. Snape stopped and stared as Regulus began to moan into the darkness, his heart leapt as he heard the mournful cries of more souls and with a last look at Snape, Regulus vanished.

Quickly, he ran to the window and looked out upon the night. The air was filled phantoms, with the ghosts of those trapped, chained and bound – some together. None of them were free and miserable for all eternity. Whether these images merged or faded into the mists he couldn't be sure but as their mournful cries vanished the night returned to normal.

He tried to dismiss it as pure fantasy, as too much to drink, but he found that he could not. Suddenly very tried from the emotional turmoil he had been pulled through and the terrible memories he had endured he made his way back to his bed. Without removing his dressing-gown, he fell into a deep slumber.


	2. The First of the Three Spirits

**Authors Note: **This is a little Christmas present for those out there who are reading. Merry Christmas!  
**Disclaimer: **The story belongs to Dickens, the characters to JK Rowling. I claim neither.

A Hogwarts Christmas Carol  
in Prose  
Being a Ghost Story of Christmas

Chapter Two: The First of the Three Spirits

Snape was awoken by the eccentric chiming of his alarm clock. The small bell inside the mechanism chimed regularly up to twelve. _This can't be_! He thought. It had been close to two o'clock when he had eventually retired to bed, surely he couldn't have slept one whole day and far into the next night!

He scrambled out of bed and across the room to the small window, outside it was a dark and foggy there was no doubting that it was cold for he had to rub the sleeve of his dressing gown upon the window in order to look out. There was no noise from outside, and no noise from anywhere within the walls of the castle. He shivered, pulled his gown tighter around him and retreated back to his bed.

Regulus' ghost had left him with unpleasant memories, memories that he would sooner forget. It was difficult in this world to dismiss the ghost as a fanciful dream, he could not deny that Regulus' ghost had been there and yet he could not rationalise what he had seen.

He lay back on his bed thinking. He was interrupted by the clock chiming the three quarters, instantly he remembered Regulus' warning about the three visitors that were supposed to call. When the bell tolled one. He mused more upon the issue before deciding that he would not return to sleep, but would lie there until the hour was called.

He listened to the chiming of the clock as it counted down the minutes until the hour. A deep melancholy ONE chimed thundered through the building. The sudden influx of light in his small bedroom caused Snape to bolt upright and he was obliged to cover his eyes. The light dimmed slightly and he found himself face to face with a strange figure.

It was a child, but not a child. The apparition had all the features of a child and those of an old man. The face was young yet the long hair that hung about its face was pure white with age, the face itself had not a winkle. Its perfect limbs hung beside its body, muscular and perfect with delicate hands and feet. The figure was clad in the purest white robes that Snape had ever seen, the belt surrounding its waist was beautiful and there were words to describe how beautiful Snape found the figure. The source of the almost blinded light was revealed to be from the crown upon its head. As Snape stared the figure shimmered and shifted, as if not able to decide upon the correct shape.

"Are you the first that Regulus said would come?" He asked nervously.

"I am!" The spirit replied in a gentle low voice.

"Who are you?" Snape demanded.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"What past?"

"Yours."

He regarded this for a moment before taking a long look at the spirit. "Why are you here?"

"For your welfare."

He snorted, "my welfare would be best served by none of these interruptions!"

"Does the salvation of your soul mean nothing to you?" The spirit held out its hand and Snape regarded it cautiously. "Take my hand and walk with me."

It would have been pointless for Snape to refuse, to claim that he was not dressed for a stroll to argue that the bed was warm and the castle was colder than death. The hand he took as soft and gentle as a woman's touch, he could not resist. He rose with the spirit and became alarmed as the spirit crossed towards the wall.

"I hate to state the obvious," he commented, "but I'm mortal, I don't have the advantage of being able to cross through walls."

In answer the spirit turned and lay a hand upon his heart. He felt a warming sensation surge through his body that was both pleasant and terrifying. The spirit held its hand in place and he felt himself moving towards the wall.

The room around vanished and he found himself standing in the corridor, but it was not the corridor outside his room. He glanced around, he knew exactly where he was. He was standing in the library corridor, if everything had not seemed so different he would have accused the spirit of trickery but there was no denying that whilst this was Hogwarts, it was not the Hogwarts he had retired to bed in.

"Jesus..." he gasped.

"You recognise the time?"

"Yes... I was... a first year." He stuttered.

As he spoke a bell rang somewhere within the deeps of the castle and almost instantly the corridor was filled with the shouts and cheers of hundreds of pupils eagerly racing down to the Great Hall. Some were singing Christmas Carols at the top of their voices and wishing each other the Seasons Greetings.

"Do you recall this scene?"

Snape did. He turned to watch the happy pupils, their smiles, their laughter. The atmosphere was thick with the jollity that the season brought. He watched as two boys jostled together laughing, the teacher in him caused him to step forward to intervene.

"They are shadows. Things that have been. Memories."

As more people ran past him he found he was able to name them without any trouble, and even named their children whom he know taught. Why did his heart leap, why did his eyes shine as they ran past? Why did he find delight in naming the figures? Why did their shouts and screams fill him with a warmth he had never felt before?

"The school isn't entirely deserted." The spirit laid a hand upon his shoulder and he found himself in the Slytherin Common Room.

The room itself had not changed much since his student days, as ever it was decorated grandly for Christmas. Wonderful deep rich colours draped the fire place and the proud tree was decorated beautifully in the Slytherin colours, a blazing fire stood in the grate and the luxurious leather arm chairs glinted in the fire light.

Snape felt something inside him sink as they faced a tall, thin dark haired boy reading alone by the fireside. There was not an echo in room, not even the sound of mice scuttling behind walls. Despite the rich colours and the inviting fire the room had no warmth.

Snape sat down on the sofa and wept. The spirit touched his arm and pointed to his younger self. The younger Snape was carefully unwrapping a small gift, his delicate sensitive fingers worked their way through the colourful wrapping paper until the object inside was revealed. He watched as his younger self raised the golden pocket watch to the light, it's casing glinting and shimmering.

"I still don't know who sent it." Snape mused. "It was...the only gift I ever received."

He watched as the boy crossed the room, collected an old battered leather bound book and returned to his seat. The faded silver letters caught the fire light and the older Snape roared with laughter.

"Treasure Island." He laughed. Snape began to recant the tale of pirates and buried treasure, his voice excited and he spoke in clipped, quick sentences so unlike his normal speech. "I must have read it over and over. Wishing that something would take me away, not just for an adventure but for another life." He smiled sadly, "things don't always work out how you dream."

"Another Christmas happened here."

Snape watched in shock as the child in the chair aged before his eyes to become a young man of about seventeen. It seemed he had abandoned his childish past time of reading adventure stories by the fire at Christmas as this Snape was pacing about the room in some agitation.

"Why won't it work..." He could be heard mumbling to himself, "the ingredients are fine, the method is fine... but why doesn't it work?"

"Hey, Severus!"

Adult Snape's heart jumped as he recognised the familiar voice calling across the Common Room. His heart began to ache as he watched Regulus Black, beautiful and handsome as ever cross the room to meet his younger-self. The memories fresh from his visit the other night and of what became of this young man so full of life and happiness. Regulus Black had looked up to the older boy, he would have done anything to please Snape and what had happened? Snape had let him down, he had not protected him.

"Yoo-hoo." Regulus playfully waved at the pacing Snape. "You'll tire yourself out! Come on, stop thinking and start enjoying yourself! It's Christmas!" The boy was tugging on Snape's arm.

"Don't... Regulus, I need to work this out."

"You can work it any time!" Regulus whined, "come on! You promised."

"I didn't promise anything."

"You promised me that you wouldn't spend your Christmas brooding over your NEWTs, or that bloody brother of mine."

"I don't remember saying that."

Regulus groaned in frustration. "Severus Snape you are a compete pain! You promised when I agreed to spend Christmas here with you."

"I seem to recall that you said that you'd rather be anywhere than with your brother."

"Yes, and I've chosen to spend it here with you! I had hoped that you'd stop brooding and enjoy it."

The younger Snape laughed, "all right! All right. You'll bug me to death if I try to work."

"He had a large heart." The spirit commented watching the young Regulus pulling Snape towards the fire and trying to tell him in thousands of words how wonderful things were going to be.

"Yes." He replied, "and I destroyed it... and him."

As they spoke they walked away from the joyful scene by the fire and were walking along the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley to another time that Snape had often thought about in his dreams. The spirit stopped outside a door and enquired if Snape knew where he was.

"Of course, I was an apprentice here."

He stepped closer, stared at the golden plague depicting the name 'Slug & Jiggers Apothecary' and smiled fondly. He jumped as the door was thrown open and a small roundish man with a happy face bounced into the street. He was dressed in flamboyant robes of bright red and almost comical wig. At this moment he was dancing about the street in the early snow fall, kicking up his heels and showing the world his pointed slippers.

"Mr Jigger." Snape laughed, "there are times when I've visited the apothecary and wished that he was still alive. Eccentric as anything but a genius."

Jigger wrapped his arms around himself and laughed heartily. He called out in a rich baritone: "Severus! Regulus!"

The two apprentices appeared at the door. As Snape had aged his appearance had changed little, his nose perhaps had grown more crooked as the result of several breaks, and his eyes seemed sunken. He gave the overall impression of someone who spent far too much time bending over a hold cauldron. On the other hand, Regulus had grown into an attractive young man his eyes shined with a quick intelligence and humour.

"No more work tonight!" Jigger called, still dancing about in the snow. "Come, dance!" He pulled Severus out into the snow holding his hands and dancing merrily around whilst Regulus laughed from the door way. "Christmas Eve! Come boys, shut up shop!"

They need not be told twice. In an instant they had the shop locked and prepared for the night. Jigger beamed at them as he pulled on his travelling cloak, he wrapped his old scarf around Snape's neck and placed a gentle arm about Regulus' shoulder.

"Tonight we shall celebrate. We shall drink to the dear departed Mr Slug and we shall drink to the future. We shall drink to my wife, and we shall drink to Cupid to find you two young gentleman wives of your own!"

Snape felt the world about him shift as the spirit redirected them to the wonderful celebration that Mr Jigger had been speaking off. He found himself back in the great hall of Jigger's mansion, the room was decorated and light, the brightest of colours! Tables were piled high with the best food and best wine. A band of skeletons wearing Christmas hats, upon their ribs hung thousands of baubles and around their arms tinsel hung. They played a roaring joyful waltz as many people spun and danced across the floor.

Mr Jigger and his wife stood beaming at the door, greeting each guest with their warmest regard. It appeared that the whole world had been invited to partake in the famous celebrations, Jigger had dismissed his household for the night and here they were in all their 'splender mixing with the highest politician to the lowest shop worker. Here too the House Elves were dressed merrily and making their way around the room with trays filled with exquisite delights. The four Miss Jigger's were busy breaking hearts and dancing the night away with not a care in the world, not a care to the terrors that were taking place elsewhere.

Severus and Regulus were involved with everything that night, every game, every dare, every dance. Great smiles covered their faces as they raced about from person to person. They laughed and smiled as they each danced with Jigger's four delightful daughters. Nothing that took place that night could ever indicate what eventually befell these two happy fellows.

Snape too found himself enjoying the ball, laughing easily as he watched his old self being chased by Mrs Jigger holding a stick of mistletoe. He had quite forgotten the spirit that stood so close beside him. It was not until the clock struck eleven and the party guests, filled with drink, food and merriment began to depart that Snape remembered the spirit.

"Such a small thing to make people forget." It mused.

"Indeed." Snape replied sadly.

"Is it not? You sound sad. Was this not a moment to be happy, to be enjoyed? He brought a moment of happiness to those who had none."

"It's not that." Snape sighed. "Mr Jigger had all the power to make us happy, to feel... wanted. No matter how much he showed love towards us...towards me...I realised far too late..."

The spirit glanced at him. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing...nothing in particular."

"My time grows short!" The spirit suddenly exclaimed, "quick!"

The world shifted again, this time to the edge of a great canal snow upon the ground and frost covering the bare trees. The canal itself was frozen, glinting in the harsh daylight. Snape saw himself a few years younger than he was presently, gone was that happy glow to be replaced by a hardening of his eyes and features. His hair was longer and his hands thin and delicate.

This Snape was sitting on a bench, a long travelling cloak wrapped around his shoulders – he was still wearing Mr Jigger's scarf, the only reminder to a happier time. He was not alone. Sitting beside him was a woman much older than himself, she too was hard faced and wearing a long black travelling cloak.

"How can you say his feelings matter little to you?" She asked without emotion.

"I'm surprised at you, Bellatrix. I never took you for one to have softer feelings." Snape sneered.

Bellatrix laughed harshly. "Don't confuse feelings with concern. You know what he is prepared to do for you, what he's prepared to risk."

"I never asked him to risk anything for me. If he is foolish enough to risk the Dark Lord's wrath then neither you nor I should be concerned."

Bellatrix laughed again, "it is not for Regulus that I am concerned. The Dark Lord is fond of you, he has made no secrets of that. You would be foolish to allow his feelings to affect you."

Snape's fingers curled into a fist, "I have told you, his feelings matter little to me." He turned to Bellatrix, "and believe me, you can't penetrate my defences."

She leaned closer to him and said in a low voice, "I don't need Legilimens to know how you feel, if I can see it, the Dark Lord can." She stood, "you would be wise, Severus, to terminate him before you find yourself in trouble."

"Regulus is not a coward, he would never run." Snape snapped suddenly standing bringing himself to his full height, he towered over the woman. "You're here to cause trouble, you know that I am becoming the Dark Lords favourite and you can't stand it."

"I assure you,_ Snape_." She murmured dangerously, "that Regulus is a coward and will betray us, you. You would be wise to rid yourself of him, to prove that you are as loyal as you say. May you be happy with your choices." With that she d**isapparate**d leaving Snape standing alone on the canal side.

"Please." The adult Snape turned to the spirit, tears brimming within his eyes, "don't show me any more."

"One more shadow." It replied, casting an arm out.

The scene shifted again, this time to a dark grave-yard. The freshly fallen snow did little to affect the gloom, shadows from the great angels cast themselves across show forming monstrous grotesque shapes. There was a figure, frantically digging in the frozen Earth.

"It has to be here, it has to be here." The figure said sobbing as his hands bled from the frozen ground. He sank back sobbing still, "come on..." Regulus Black was barely recognisable from the happy warm figure he had been his face was thin, gaunt. His eyes terrified, his ragged clothing hanging from his body as if they were supported by twigs.

Another figure appeared in the grave yard, crossing rapidly towards the digging man. The adult Snape had turned away, he could not bare to see the events that where so clear in his mind unfolding.

"Regulus!" He called. "Regulus!" He caught his hands before he could attack the Earth further.

"Oh!" Regulus cried, "Severus! My friend... Thank God." His hands clawing at Snape's cloak, "you have to help me. We have to stop him. We have to stop this."

"There's nothing to stop."

"But...but you saw the same as I!"

"I saw what had to be done." Snape reasoned, taking Regulus' hands from his cloak.

"But the child!"

"It had to be done."

Regulus stared at his friend hardly believing what he was hearing. "You're not Severus." He shrank away, "you're not... he would never..."

"I assure you that I am. Regulus, these things have to be done. They had to be done to protect us."

"But the child!" He wept again.

"It couldn't be helped." Snape looked down at the ground, "what are you doing?" He asked suddenly.

"I have to stop it... I have to end it." Snape looked at him puzzled, "the bone of the father... of the father." Regulus rambled turning back to digging. "I need them all..."

"Regulus...how do you know about this?"

"I knew you couldn't be Severus! Dear Severus... he told me. He..." Regulus started to laugh, "he told me everything...how to stop him..."

The meaning of his words dawned on him, "I told you that many years ago."

"I never forgot... I never forget... Help me, Severus. Help me... help me, please I'm begging you. It has to stopped, this isn't right...it isn't right."

A cold laugh from behind the graves caused Snape to look about him frantically. There, leaning on an old decrepit statue of an angel stood the Dark Lord as malevolent and harsh as ever. He clapped his hands in delight seeing Regulus frantically digging again at the frozen ground.

"I must congratulate you, my young friend." Voldemort said lazily placing a hand upon Snape's shoulder. "Your loyalty is without question." As he said these words the hand tighten around his shoulder, jerking him to his feet and holding him painfully.

"Please, My Lord. My loyalty is to you." Snape hissed through the pain.

"Is it?" Voldemort threw him back upon the ground, "I find you here with a coward, whom you apparently told my secret to."

"No, no. I told Regulus about horcuxes when we were children, it was a legend... a myth." He allowed Voldemort's eyes to bore into him, knowing full well that he would be searching for the truth, Snape could only hope he trusted what he saw. To his relief Voldemort seemed satisfied and turned his attention upon Regulus.

Voldemort smiled to himself as he took out his wand.

"My Lord, no!" Snape cried, "his mind is gone he doesn't know what he is doing. He can't betray us."

Laughing, Voldemort turned to Snape. "How touching." He smiled sinisterly, "perhaps I should ask you to prove where your loyalties lie. To this..." he kicked Regulus, "or to me."

Hesitating Snape stood taking out his wand. Voldemort watched him closely as Snape took a deep breath and crossed to Regulus. Crouching he looked upon Regulus' broken spirit, he leaned close and whispered in his ear. "I'm sorry." Before raising his wand.

"Stop please." Adult Snape turned to the spirit, "I can't bare it any longer. Take me away from this place."

"These are shadows of what has been. They are what they are, you can't blame me."

In anger Snape tried to lash out at the Ghost, his hand however sailed through the body with a slight tingling feeling without as much as affecting him. "Haunt me no longer, please I beg you."

A terrible cry rang through the air and Snape spun around in time to see the crippled body of Regulus Black fall upon the stone, his head striking first. Adult Snape sank to his knees sobbing, "why did you have to show me this?"

The spirit did not reply.

When Snape risked raising his head from his hands he found himself back in his bed chamber. He glanced about, shaking, everything seemed as it was. He tried to steady his breathing and with the help of the bedstead he pulled himself to his feet. He was conscious of being completely exhausted and allowed himself to collapse upon the bed. He could dismiss it all as a dream, and soon he fell into a deep restless slumber.


End file.
